


I Want to Know You

by City_L1ghts



Category: K-pop, Mamamoo
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Clubbing, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-07 19:59:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18880201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/City_L1ghts/pseuds/City_L1ghts
Summary: Its dark, it’s warm and there’s a whole lot of dancing. It’s the time where they meet in a club and well— you can guess the rest.*featuring versions of starry night Yongsun and blue;s Byul. I would attach pictures but I think most of us know what I’m referring to, if not, google it. It’s worth it.





	1. Do You See Me?

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone’s read my other much longer fic then these are some of the scenes I wanted to put in but just didn’t quite fit. So I made a scenario where I could fit it. Lol. As always, let me know what you think, there must be some thoughts on this one… I hope I'm delivering. P.s. It’s a oneshot… unless I get a sudden burst of inspiration (I'll get part 2 up soon...)

Hyejin drops herself onto the couch in the least elegant way possible. Then proceeds to throws her feet on top of Byul’s lap, thoroughly disrupting the other girl, typing into her phone on the other end.

“What the—” Byul looks up. “When did you get back?”

Hyejin groans, fully stretching herself and invading the space. “Like ten minutes ago, lecture ended early.”

“You mean _you_ left lecture early.” Byul states simply.

“Yeah, yeah, same difference.”

“How do you even pass your courses?”

Hyejin taps the side of her head and says smugly, “it’s all in here. I don’t need some monotone elderly repeating it to me.”

Byul rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re smart.”

“You just have to play the system…” Hyejin trails. “But I didn’t come back to tell you how incredibly intelligent I am. Wheein knows someone who can get us into that new club that opened recently.”

Byul gives her a look. “I— ”

“Nuh uh, no. Unnie, you’re coming.” Hyejin kicks her on the thigh. “Don’t be annoying. We used to be fun.” She whines.

Byul sighs. She watches Hyejin squint her eyes at her, glaring and waiting for a response. There’s really no arguing with Hyejin in her “my way” mode.

“I have shit to do. Not all of us are intelligent geniuses.” Byul mutters.

Hyejin sees a slight break in resolve and pounces. “Well you’re going anyways so you could be as dumb as a rock for all I care. I’ll help you get ready.” She grins and makes an effort to kick Byul off the couch. Byul wasn’t hard to convince. Hyejin can see her wanting a night out after all the stress recently.

“Fine.” She sighs and Hyejin gives her a look like she already knew. “Fine. But you do not get to dress me.” Byul surrenders, holding up a finger in front of Hyejin in a meek show of authority. She winces at the thought of the almost see-through outfit Hyejin had her in last time when she lost a bet. She knew she looked good. But that’s beside the point.

“That was hot though…” Hyejin whines.

“No.”

“Well at least you’re easy to convince.” Hyejin gloats to herself.

“Do you want me coming or not?”  

“Oh yes. Yes. Stop being dramatic. We’ll make sure you’re _all_ covered up. Like not even a fucking belly button.” Hyejin teases, wrapping her arms around body as if she was covering herself.  

Byul huffs theatrically, pushing Hyejin’s feet off of her a little aggressively and pads to her bedroom.

Hyejin smirks and hollers when Byul is almost out of sight. “We’re getting you wasted!

Byul groans.

 

____________________________________

 

The line is long outside the club, wrapping itself around the brick building. The chilly night air nips at jackets that flutter in the wind, well– Hyejin doesn’t wear one but the rest of the regular folks do.  Hyejin has her arm wrapped around Wheein’s neck, complaining about a group project she has to do for a course. Wheein laughs exasperatedly at the exaggerated version of the situation, unsure of what to do with what her friend tells her sometimes.

Byul scoffs. “It’s not like you attend the class, maybe your group doesn’t even know you exist.”

Hyejin glares at her and turns her face into Wheein’s neck, to which Wheein just chuckles. “Byul-yi unnie’s right.”

Hyejin releases her and pushes her away, feigning offense. “I can’t trust you.”

They all laugh, their cheeks flushed from the drinks they downed when Wheein ecstatically arrived with a bottle of tequila in hand.

When they eventually get through security and into the club it’s a whole different environment altogether. The air is musky from smoke machines and alcohol, and probably from the sheer number of people cramped inside an enclosed space. It’s warm too, so much so that Byul feels like she shouldn’t have worn that blazer of hers.

She had on tight black pants and a matching slim cut blazer with her sleeves rolled up. The blazer covers enough of what a silver crop top reveals underneath. She left her belly button revealed, just to spite Hyejin. Her long brown hair was left down, curled into waves on the ends and swept to one side to reveal a thin leather choker, tightly clasped around her neck.

Wheein tugs on her wrist as she tries to maneuver them inside. And they break free into a small space by the bartender’s counter.

The beat in the music is loud and resonant. Byul feels a sense of release in the way the vibrations courses through her body, naturally throbbing with the rhythm.

She can already tell the music at this place was different to other places. Classy. She picks up on the retro and jazz style riffs woven into the bass lines, intrigued by the way it blends into EDM and pop.

It’s not easy to do well. Definitely deserving of the hype this place had.

She watches the blend of flashing lights and colours that dance over the ever-moving crowd and they stand waiting and chatting for while. Hyejin suddenly pushes Byul aside, impatient, and throws her arms over the counter, trying to get the bartender’s attention. She turns her head to Byul.

“Unnie, you are way too fucking sober.”

“If you’re paying, I’ll drink it.” Byul yells back over the loud atmosphere.

“What about me?” Wheein cries.

Hyejin laughs. “You still haven’t had enough?”

They get their shots eventually. Hyejin catches a whole lot of attention. Partly because she doesn’t care that she’s waving her arms around so much she’s likely to whack anyone within vicinity. And partly because Hyejin’s a catch.

Byul downs her shot and smacks the glass back down on the counter. She had already felt the alcohol from before coursing through her and knows the two she just had will throw her just enough over the edge. “Let’s go…” She hollers, grabbing both of Hyejin and Wheein’s arms and pulling them towards the dance floor.

Byul moves between clusters of people, her gaze going upwards to the smaller platforms, railed and raised above the larger dance floor, also filled with people swaying to the music.

She lets herself go, the lights and sounds and smells pushing every other thought out of head as she rolls her body along with the beat, her hair swaying behind her. Ironically it’s somewhat serene to her, an extraction of herself from her body. They all just move with the wave of people.

She throws her head back laughing at Wheein’s amplified impression of Hyejin hair flip and body wave. That’s when Byul looks up on the higher platforms again and sees one standing much emptier than the others, with only a silver metal table and a tangle of wires hooked on devices; a DJ booth not far from them is set aside from the other platforms.

She catches a pair of eyes there staring intently at her.

A girl. Probably her age, if not younger. Long blond hair, braided, drapes over her shoulder. A black lace tank hides just enough in the dim lights. Silver earphones hang from one ear.

And she sways. Her hips, her shoulders, her head, moves with the music she’s creating. It’s fucking mesmerizing.

And Byul couldn’t look away.

The blonde’s intense gaze flickers between her controls and then right back into Byul’s eyes.

Their gaze locks together, again and again; every time the girl looks back up. Byul’s breaths quicken. Maybe it’s from the dancing. Her lips start rise from the corners, quirking into a smile.

She watches the girl’s fingers fly swiftly across the panel, pressing buttons in precisely timed increments, flowing with her beat.

 _Oh. She’s good._ And so very attractive.

Byul knew she was being watched now. Her peripheral vision never quite leaving that table, very aware that she was on display for the young DJ as she moved her body with the music. And to say that doesn’t excite her a little more would be a lie.

She’s missed this. She swore to not pick-up girls at the club anymore.

But this, this felt different. Somehow electric, and she hasn’t even talked to her.

Somehow she’s so caught up with her focus she doesn’t notice someone sidling up against her until she feels gentle hands against her hips and soon after, contact against her back.

The attention’s not new. Especially not here.

She turns her head behind her, surprised to find a girl instead of a guy staring back at her. It’s not like it never happens to her; but it’s rare. A warm breath brushes her ear, and a gentle hand finds one of hers.

“Care for a dance?”

Well… a dance couldn’t hurt.

But she feels those steely eyes from the blond girl at her platform staring at her still. Dark now. Almost daring her to.

She was more than willing to oblige to that game.

Maybe Byul was just imagining it all, because smoke fills the air and brightly flashing lights strobe around them; how well could she really read her gaze from here? But… fuck it. She had a feeling she could read those expressive eyes like a book.

And she wanted to play.

Byul pulls the anonymous girl’s hands onto her hips, then turns and sidles her back to her front like they were before and starts swaying her hips. And as she dances, her hands roam on herself and she plays with her hair, moving as one with the laughing girl behind her.

She stares back upwards towards the curious blond at her table, a playful smirk filling her face. The blonde never breaks gaze. When Byul sees her pull her bottom lip between her teeth–she couldn’t help herself– she winks at her. Even from the distance she can see the girl at the platform still; stay motionless for a just a fraction.

Byul feels hands at her hips start to wander, and she lets them for a while. Eventually she turns and rests her arms on the girl’s shoulder, their heads not far apart. It’s clear the girl’s going in for a kiss.

Byul also knows that would be too far. Too far for the deep curious eyes she still feels on her. So she lets the girl close in until the last moment, before her hands gently guide her jaw to a still and she leans in to her ear to whisper instead, “thanks for the dance”.

She extracts herself from the girl’s space, smiling still and the girl smiles back, turns to get swallowed by the crowd again. Byul whips her head around, delighted as she makes what feels like physical contact with the same penetrating gaze again.

Byul stops moving for a moment in the crowd, and stands out, like a large rock in a river. She’s not entirely sure what to do. But she doesn’t want to let this go. She knew she wasn’t going to since the beginning.

So she makes a brief gesture, pointing in the directions of a cluster of tables by a wall, the edges of where the crowd fades out.

If she runs into her there when she’s done playing then she’ll see. If not, well, she swore off this stuff for a while anyways. But she’s really hoping she does.

 

_____________________

 

 

Byul’s sipping on some water within eyeshot of the tables when Hyejin appears, throwing her arms in the air and making a face at her.

“There you are! Don’t just disappear on us, idiot.”

Byul wraps an arm around Hyejin’s shoulders. “Hydration. You want to feel like a crumpled piece of trash tomorrow?”

Hyejin grabs the cup from her and gulps eagerly, “thanks.” Byul rolls her eyes with a chuckle, her eyes roaming quickly back to the platform when Hyejin moves to leave the cup on a counter.

“Byul it’s like 1:30. Wheein’s hungry. Let’s go elsewhere .” Hyejin repeats it a second time, swatting at Byul’s arm to get her attention. “What are you doing?” She yells when Byul barely registers that.

Hyejin follows her gaze; she laughs really loudly. She looks back and forth between Byul and the platform. 

“I knew it. God-  _That’s_ what you’re trying to do?”

“What—” Byul’s confused, takes her a minute to get what Hyejin is referring to. Oh. Shit. She wasn’t _trying_ to be obvious.

“Don’t give me that look. _She’s_ what you’re trying to _do_.” Hyejin states grinning. “You swore off this stuff you bitch.”

“I’m not _doing_ anything. I’m literally standing here.” Byul says rolling her eyes.

“Right, and I attend all my lectures.” Hyejin mocks.

Byul stays silent, but suddenly she says, “she’s different.” And she thinks Hyejin didn’t even hear her over the music but then she sees her squint her eyes and give her a look.

“Oh. Wow.” Hyejin breathes.

“Stop.” Byul laughs and pushes her away. “You act like I’m some jerk who plays around.”

“Well…” Hyejin gestures like she’s actually thinking about it.

“Ugh. You’re the worst.”

“You’re the one that swore you—”

“I know. I know.”

Byul hesitates, steals another glance.

“You’re so predictable.” Hyejin laughs and waves as she turns. “See you tomorrow.”

“Jeez. Stop.” Byul pulls her back. “I just want to meet her!” Byul exclaims exasperatedly.

“Sure…” Hyejin drawls. “Whatever you say.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Oh, this requires mocking. A whole lot of it. You better show up for lunch tomorrow.”

“I’m coming home tonight.”

“Sure…”

“Stop.” Byul shoves her again.

Hyejin laughs. “Go. Have fun.”

Byul groans, then sees Wheein emerging from the doors of the washroom.

“Stay safe stud.” Hyejin grabs Wheein’s wrist as Wheein quizzically turns back to see why Byul wasn’t following them.

Byul doesn’t try to follow.

 


	2. I Want You To Have Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I may have gotten a little carried away with this chapter... But it's too late. It's done. Hope it's a fun read.

Byul finds her by the tables. Well maybe it was the girl that found her. She’s standing in a crook where two walls meet, fingers twirling the tip of the braid resting by her collar bone.

Maybe she sees Byul before Byul saw her, because she’s smiling at her already.

“Hey. I was hoping to catch you.” Byul says when she reaches her.

The blonde girl stares back at her, doesn’t say anything. But she’s grinning, her eyes emanate a hunger. Quiet. Intriguing. It’s working for her. Fuck, she loves those expressive eyes already. She tries really hard not to give her a once-over. Like really hard. But she knows her eyes are lingering, in all the places she shouldn’t, because if she had that much self-control she wouldn’t be here.

“Not big on words?” Byul inquires.

“No, I am.” 

“Okay, just full of layers then aren’t you?”

The girl flashes her a look of amusement, eyes squinting a little to measure her with her gaze.   
“Perhaps. I try and speak with things other than words.” The girl’s smirking now. “I’m glad you stayed.”

“You. You’re different. It’s good.” Byul reiterates. She’s talking about the music, but she realizes it sounds like more. Well, it’s not untrue.

The blonde laughs. Byul likes that sound, grins like a child. _Pull it together._

“The place is packed.” Byul takes a glance around the room to make the point, and it’s true, even as the crowd starts to die out at this hour. “Trust me it’s not the alcohol.” She makes a face at reliving those shots.

Yongsun smiles like she knows exactly the feeling.

“Thank you. I saw you enjoying the music.” The tail end of that sentence comes out slowly.

Byul pauses. “I know you did.” It’s hard to find words to say: I know you were watching, I _liked_ that you were watching. It’s exciting.

The eye contact is so heavy Byul drowns in it for a bit; she hears her pulse throbbing in her ears, even over the resonating beat. Maybe there’s a bit of residual alcohol flowing through her.

The blonde clears her throat to break the moment and swallows obviously after. (Byul thinks it’s nice to see she wasn’t the only one affected.) “So what should I call you?”

Byul smiles and shrugs. “Byul. Byul-yi. Moonbyul. I don’t set limitations.”

“So you’re saying I get to choose.”

“Whatever you want.”

The girl raises an eyebrow inquisitively. “Really…” And she really does ponder for just a second. “Okay Byul-ssi. I don’t have as many options as you do, so I guess it’s just Yongsun.”

“Please.” Byul rolls her eyes. “Drop the honorifics. Yongsun.” She enunciates her name slower and much lower than she intended.

Yongsun chuckles softly, pretty much undetectable with the music playing overhead. It’s just a sequence of breaths that Byul feels to match the expression.

“Byul-ah, I guess we’re getting informal real fast.” Yongsun states simply.

She says it so nonchalantly it takes Byul completely by surprise when Yongsun reaches out with a finger and tugs gently on Byul’s choker.

Byul almost chokes on the breath she was taking.

Yongsun leans back with that motion, like she was inviting Byul in, but the touch from her finger remains so delicate it’s almost nonexistent.

In an effort to straighten up, to try and regain _some_ composure of decency, Byul ends up pulling away a little. But that only spurs Yongsun to hook that finger completely under the necklace to tug a little harder.

_Fuck._

Byul staggers a small step forward.

_Breathe._

They’re standing fractions from each other; and Byul can’t recall a time she’s been so thrown. Because she’s talked to this girl for, what, less than several minutes, barely had a real conversation, and she has been reduced to completely nothing. For fucks sakes, she can feel herself getting wet.

“I think,” Byul manages to reply, barely audible, “you’ve been getting to know me all night already. So there’s really no need for formalities right?”

Yongsun’s eyes sweep down to her lips and her finger slowly slips out from under, releasing Byul from her hold.

And Byul thinks, she’s going to do it, she going to—

But instead Yongsun smirks, her hands slide down from hovering at her neck to make light contact on the middle of her chest and shoves her gently. It’s just enough for Byul to make a little step back, right back to where she was before.

“Well, from what I saw, I know you like to dance. And I know you like to _play_.” Yongsun just embodies pure cockiness at this point.

Byul tries to stifle her grin. It’s one of the few times she’s actually glad she went with her impulse earlier.

“Want to _know_ some other things about me? I’ve got layers too.” Byul retorts. She couldn’t help it. Yongsun was practically setting that one up. 

Yongsun breaks out into that same laugh and leans forward to step into her space, lingers there for just a moment to stare at her some. Byul watches the thoughts spin in her eyes; she realizes that this is just as unanticipated for the other girl as it is for her. The wait feels like forever.

In the next second, Yongsun huffs with a smile, dragging some kind of amusement Byul couldn’t decipher, and moves past her, her fingers interlacing Byul’s in the process to tug her along. “ _Come on_. My place isn’t far.”

 

___________________________________

 

They stumble into the apartment.

Well, mostly Byul does, because it’s so dark— why isn’t she turning on the lights? Yongsun turns around and plants her palm against the center of Byul’s chest again, almost pushes her back out of the apartment.

“Okay. So I obviously wasn’t anticipating this. So. You don’t– just, you don’t get to laugh at the mess.”

Byul fails to hold back her laugh and splutters a little in the dark.

“We’re not here to have a tea party. I can deal with a little mess Yongsun.”

The lights flicker on, taking a second to shift to full brightness. Byul squints a little with the change and maybe there is indeed a mess, it wasn’t even bad really, but again she just couldn’t help herself.

“You weren’t kidding. Did we suffered a natural disaster that I wasn’t aware of?”

“Hey! You said—”

“I know what I said.” Byul doesn’t even have her shoes off yet but she shoves Yongsun (maybe a little harder than she intended) against the wall by the door, quickly steps right up against her. “You think a mess would stop me from this?”

A quiet ‘ _no_ ’ comes after a couple seconds.  Yongsun didn’t even notice that harder than intended impact against the wall, rather just stares wide-eyed with shaky breaths.

They’re not touching, but it feels like they are. They’re so close, so—  Yongsun closes her eyes to recollect herself. They don’t move. The air feels tight.

But at some point one of them, it doesn’t even matter who, gives up. The tension needs to break, before one of them does, and someone closes the distance.

They breathe out with the contact, a relief of some sort. It’s a greedy kind of kiss, the kind where you push and push and you feel the same rewarding resistance to spur more every time.

Yongsun hands fly to Byul’s hips and pull (with that same amount of unintended force Byul threw her against the wall with). And Byul starts to see how Yongsun likes that possessive lure, a flash of dominance and gleam in Yongsun’s eyes before the action. Byul almost hates how much she loves it. Just like it was in the club.

The kiss manages to sublimate that tension for maybe a couple seconds, and then it’s not really enough.

Byul needs more, needs Yongsun’s hands to be doing something more, needs to loosen that braid of hers, needs to touch what’s under the clothes.

Byul’s kissed before. More than she’d actually like to admit. A long time ago she used to want stability, the dependency in a relationship, but life tends to fuck that— no, she refuses to let her mind wander there. She was looking for something then, something to fill this emptiness in her after that. And then maybe she went a little overboard with the overcompensating, so she… she swore off this kind of thing.

This though…this is, well, it’s an anomaly really, because Byul has never _needed_ something she couldn’t characterize, not the way she needs Yongsun right now. And it still doesn’t make sense because she just met her. So why—

Suddenly one of Yongsun’s hand meets the exposed skin where her crop top ends, slides with the entire palm flat against her torso, and goes up and up…Yongsun’s grasp tighten around her breast and squeezes.

_Oh._

My— “ _Fuck_.”

Yongsun moans at the sound of that, the -k emphasized and extended.

And then there’s no more logical or analytical thinking of whether this makes sense anymore. There is a lot of rocking of hips though. Yongsun kisses a trail up Byul’s carotid as she palms her with a hand and pulls a little harder at her waist for contact. And Byul grinds reflexively, her eyes flickering to the back of her head from all the friction. Her leg quickly slips between Yongsun’s.

It takes maybe three thrusts before Yongsun’s impatience unveils a little more and tremulous hands fumble with the front of Byul’s pants.

Byul doesn’t know how she found it in her to stop her. “Yong.”

It’s just breathy moans as Byul tilts her neck more and more to give her access. She feels Yongsun’s fingers graze clumsily against her abdomen again and again as she fumbles. Maybe she was just calling out her name because she wanted to. “Yong.”

And after the third breathy call, Yongsun pulls away. Lust seems to seep from her eyes, and Byul finds her gaze does exactly the same thing they did before. She couldn’t’ stop looking again; Yongsun’s lips are swollen and flushed from all the contact.

“What?” Yongsun whispers gently in her haze of confusion.

“I know you don’t want me seeing your messes but at least let me take of my shoes.” She chuckles. “And maybe a softer surface for me to push you on?”

She gets a lazy smile in response.

“Sure…” Yongsun’s voice trails as any concern dissipates and she’s essentially given permission to continue. But then it’s like she didn’t even hear Byul because her mouth finds the underside of her jaw in a second and she resumes; these kisses are wetter now, dirtier.

Byul can’t tell if she wants to moan or gasp exasperatedly at that. It takes her a while, to try and step out of her shoes with Yongsun clinging onto her. She’s surprised that even happens because she’s only functioning with a miniscule amount of rational thinking, and she truly did consider letting Yongsun have her on the floor by the doorway for a second.

The moment she steps out of those shoes Yongsun breaks them apart, tugging her inside with intention. Byul almost stumbles again trying to keep up with her.

Yongsun flips her bedside light on, chucks a sweater or two off her bed and spins around, hands quickly seeking contact again, all in quick succession.

Byul nearly laughs at the whirlwind of motions, tries to slow her when she’s back in her arms, hands flying to cup both her cheeks to kiss her slowly. But Yongsun is restless with energy, a little out of control once Byul set off all the restraints on her. So Byul tries something else, tugs impulsively on Yongsun’s long braid, gripping her hand around it behind her neck and pulling her lips back just a centimeter.

“Slow down, beautiful.” She chuckles. “We have time.”

And Yongsun does, eyes first darkening with Byul’s motion then just blinking at her with a transient euphoria. She stops to brush her thumb against Byul’s lower lip, resting it lightly on her chin after.

“I really didn’t see this coming.” She breathes. Byul sees a softness in her eyes that’s more than two strangers meeting for the first time.

Yongsun gives her another kiss, soft, light as a feather this time, before stepping back and slowly pulling her top over her head. The thing now is, sure, it’s slower, but her eyes are glassier, dilated; it somehow feels like more than it was before, like she could fuck Byul just by looking at her.

It’s slower and yet Byul finds it more difficult to keep up, too turned on by how Yongsun can make every moment more charged than the last. Byul finds herself stripping as Yongsun does, till they’re both just standing in undergarments and she reaches for her choker to remove it without thought. 

Yongsun goes to still her hand. “Keep it.”

She groans. That does it for Byul. She edges Yongsun towards the bed, impatient, till Yongsun falls back clumsily onto the mattress in front of her.

Byul goes to straddle her on the edge of the bed and recreates the same rhythm with her hips they had by the door, their mouths colliding roughly when Yongsun rises to meet her. But it’s so much more now because there’s so much _skin_ , and it’s warm and soft and just intoxicating.

Byul’s searches, first with her hand to unhook Yongsun’s bra then hastily with her mouth to close around that peak.

Yongsun arches with the touch.

It takes maybe another three thrusts again before Yongsun flips them, pushes Byul further up on the bed till she’s splayed out in front of her. Byul makes a strangled sound of surprise, but she lets Yongsun have her, the fixed focus in Yongsun’s eyes doing a number on her. Yongsun kisses her everywhere, peels the remaining tiny pieces of clothing off of her. She moves down her body, works her up with her mouth, never quite lingering anywhere long enough, then with her fingers until she’s a heaving, quivering mess.

Byul doesn’t know if she’s able to get physical words out of mouth anymore, somehow regressed to a catalogue of unrecognizable syllables. She’s almost at her breaking point, needs Yongsun to put some pressure where she needs it, squirming for some friction.

She whines. Yongsun grins, feeling a high off the power-trip. All Byul gets is a chase kiss between her legs, and that contact already has her convulsing in one quick deranged spasm.

Yongsun sinks her fingers into her again, slowly, way too fucking slowly.

She’s frustrated. She just needs—

Byul growls.

Yongsun freezes, feels herself clench with that sound, eyes closing as she rests her head against her thigh.

She easily surrenders all that power from before in a second.

Suddenly she’s giving Byul everything she needs. Fingers thrust steadily and Yongsun’s mouth closes around her clit, working with purposeful movement now. Yongsun moves with the rhythm of Byul’s noises, needs to keep hearing her; the way Byul tries to suppress them makes it even more obscene. And then it’s maybe several more seconds before— _fuuuck_ …

That’s the longest word Byul’s ever said.

She moves in a decrescendo of tremors.

Yongsun lets her come down slowly, kisses her way back up to her lips, and splays out on top of half of her body, head resting on a rapidly heaving chest.

There’s just heavy breathing for a while. Byul feels a sudden urge, kisses the top of Yongsun’s head on impulse. And Yongsun feels emotional all of a sudden, wants to laugh at herself being so sensitive.

Byul rises after that, pushes Yongsun gently off her and gets up off the bed in a swift motion. She pulls Yongsun along to sit with her feet dangling off the edge of the bed. And she stands pondering, looking down at her.

“That was…” Byul breathes, and runs her fingers through her hair. “I don’t, usually— I mean… it’s not usually so…” she laughs nervously, “intense.”

Yongsun looks up, smiling, expression halfway between question and awe.

“It was beautiful.” Yongsun states. “I can do it again.” She teases, bats her lashes as her hands reach out for Byul.

But Byul steps back out of reach, and without warning drops to her knees to kneel in front of her.

“I want to do something else.” Byul murmurs lowly as she looks up at her.

She watches Yongsun’s eyes widen then flicker shut momentarily. Her mouth falls open ever so slightly with an almost inaudible groan.

She had realized this was something Yongsun wanted; their short night together told her as much. And she wants to give a part of herself to her, even if it’s just a little show of it, not realizing that it was something she wanted herself until now.

Yongsun remains still, almost too still, heart pounding as she waits for Byul to give her permission.

And she does.

Byul grabs her hand and guides it to her choker, till Yongsun’s leaning slightly forward, and lets her hook two fingers around it before slowly letting go. She sits back on her heels a little, waits patiently even though she’s unsure if the tension from their eye contact would kill her first.

There’s a slight tremor in Yongsun’s hand at first, but eventually it stills. Byul can see the anticipation in her eyes, like a million thoughts are running through her mind.

Yongsun edges herself to the end of the bed and slowly lets her legs fall apart. Her free hand grips the sheets like a vice, so hard it almost hurts. It helps bring some lucidity to her motions. She guides Byul by the neck, pulling her towards the apex of her thighs.

And in throaty rasp she whispers, “go on.”

Byul moves eagerly, but it’s all too slow— Yongsun tugs a little harder until there’s contact.

She cries out.

Both her hands fly to the back of Byul head, her fingers threading into her hair to exert some direction as she feels her move. She could feel her vision glazing, could feel the muscles in her body tensing, could feel her fucking _tongue_ , everywhere. It takes all her control to pull Byul back a bit.

Byul looks up and her lips are glistening, they’re just so— Yongsun thinks she might just die there.

“Maybe we need a safe word.” She manages to pant out.

Byul stares up at her curiously, taking a moment to process the words, perhaps get a hold on reality.

“Just give me _something_.” Yongsun gasps a little lividly.

“Moustache?”

Yongsun gives her the most incredulous look.

“What? It works. I would never say that in sex.”

But it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t think she could take Byul looking up at her like that anymore. “Tap my ankle.”

Byul nods.

Yongsun slides off the edge of the bed a little, half standing, and Byul almost surges forward to meet her center again.

Yongsun’s hands quickly resume their earlier position, her fingers gripping the sides of her head tightly, and she soon loses the ability to suppress her thrusts.

She lets it go.

She fucks her without restraint, knowing Byul has an out, until it’s all rough and rushed and repetitive. And it completely consumes her; even if everything else ceased to exist it would’ve been fine.

And when she comes she almost keels over, her legs buckling and trembling, and Byul takes a deep gasp for air. But still Byul’s arms quickly find the back of her thighs to tip her weight backwards against the bed again.

She stands there panting and trembling for a while— a long while. Byul rises a little onto her knees, so that her head rests against Yongsun’s abdomen, just holding her. There’s a calm.

“Yong.”

“What?” Her voice is hoarse, her hands still caressing Byul’s head.

“Nothing… I just wanted to say that.” Byul’s a little flustered. It had slipped out before she realized. She rises on her feet and guides the two of them back onto the bed, entangled and breathing together. Byul looks at her for a moment with utter content, maybe even a little smug after essentially taking away Yongsun’s ability to stand. And Yongsun relaxes with that look, a little afraid earlier that she went too far.

“I like it when you call me Yong.” Yongsun murmurs into her hair. She hesitates, then utters a moment later, “I play Fridays at the club.”

Byul’s heart expands a little at that. And she holds herself up by an elbow to look at her again. It’s funny how she feels like they could’ve known each other a longer than they have.

“Already planning for next time? I’m not done with you yet.”

“Oh. _I know_.” Yongsun smirks. “Neither am I.”

 

 


End file.
